


Few are the chosen ones

by LittleSlugLand



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, He is bad, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, War Crimes, jungle warfare, she is survivor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSlugLand/pseuds/LittleSlugLand
Summary: Cara Dune met an Imperial Commander in the remote jungle world of Felucia
Kudos: 11





	Few are the chosen ones

**Author's Note:**

> Huttese  
> D'emperiolo teesaw - The imperial Battle ship   
> E Chuta - fuck off or go to hell or bugger off - an insult  
> Lorda - Boss  
> Wooky - Wookie   
> Wermo - stupid person, worm  
> Goo - Scum

Commander Veers checked briefly his TL-50 Heavy repeater. The old custom before the mission. The sun was setting and light became soft and shadows longer. The jungle was getting darker and less welcoming, like it was welcoming before. Imperial Special Forces were deployed on the order of Death Squadron Admiral. The orders were clear. Zevulon felt chills running down spine despite humid hot weather which made his overall all clammy. He had the same questions every time. The answers he got were often drenched in blood. What was waiting for them among those trees? How many rebels did see their transports and were already waiting for them? Why did stormtroopers give them a wide berth, when they took off into a Valley of no return? The nickname given to that place by the local garrison was not making Zevulon calmer. He switched his helmet visor on infra. The mammal with a feline body paced fast on the tree branch. Suddenly it jumped and caught a smaller mammal. At least the rules of jungle were the same, Zevulon thought. The briefing they got was plain old search and destroy orders. Twice a battalion of stormtroopers entered the jungle and twice it disappeared without trace. The jungle swallowed them and digested them. 

“Stormies are shitting in their armor to add the camouflage to it. This is how much they fear that valley. They would rather shoot their officers and join the Rebel Scum than going to that piece of jungle. But this is not an issue now. It is work for Special Forces cutthroats, Commander,” Zevulon slowly turned to face Colonel Starck. He had only contempt for that man who cost his father´s Thundering herd three walkers. Starck had to perish with his walker but he survived and was sent to the ass of the Empire. The remote jungle world of Felucia. 

“Colonel, we put out fire where it burns,” he had a helmet of Special Forces covering his head and face and was glad for it. His voice was distorted by the com and sounded mechanical yet the trace of contempt was seeping into it. “Admiral Piett´s orders were clear and I expect everyone to do their duty. For the Glory of the Empire.”

“Sure, Commander,” Starck sneered. The special ops, fanatics all of them. He hoped Veers´ crotch goblin would be eaten by some jungle rancor, which were roaming the valley in slightly larger number than was typical for this part of Felucia,” Admiral and me want to know, what is special on this piece of jungle that Rebel Scum crave so much, while they neglect more juicy targets like docks or factories. There must be something vile there. I tell you Commander, something truly evil.”

“You are always welcome to join my men to find out, Colonel Starck,” Zevulon observed the sudden pallor in Starck's face with grim satisfaction. 

“Veers!” Zevulon turned around to face his second in command. Desert Rose, they nicknamed her because of her origin on the desert planet of Jakku. The nature was cruel to Rosa Taskeen the former smuggler and gun for hire, who joined the Empire elite forces after her sorry band of pirates encountered some imperial justice and he was given the offer to take a coin. She was scrawny with crooked legs and without any hair on her dried body.  
“What? Lieutenant!” Zevulon barked at her. 

“I got fresh intel, there is no rebel activity down there,” she replied in her heavy accented basic and slipped to less formal basic peppered with Huttese “They saw our D'emperiolo teesaw and they E chu ta from there or are well hidden, Lorda.” 

“No luck for them to E chuta from there, but they are always hidden well. Make the usual precautions. We are going in. Transports will not land and we will jump...six meters. Make sure that everybody is looking out for usual manmade jungle nastiness.”

“Copy that, Lorda,” she replied and trotted to the transports to get the men ready. 

“Colonel, if they are there we would find them and bring the rain upon them,” Zevulon walked to his transport and ignored the porno slate, which slipped into the backpack of sergeant Threl Fyt. He stood by the door and observed the foliage as they took off and flew to their drop zone. Zevulon Veers tried to find any trace of sentient activity, but there was none. The rancor running through a forest glade was taking the opposite direction than theirs. He wondered if their drop on top of Rebels´camp was thick of it, he pushed the nasty thought aside. The transport slowed and started to shake. It was time. 

“We are above the drop zone, “ Zevulon barked in his helmet comlink and moved his hand with this right thumb up and gave the sign to the rest. Time to dive into the jaws of hell and enjoy a bit of nature with hope they would not meet blaster fire, when they would be the most vulnerable during the jump.

“For the Empire!” was heard all around him as they jumped. Zevulon rolled on the ground and got up his TL-50 ready. He ran into cover of the trees and the rest of his unit was following him. 

“The first company ready,” Zevulon heard next and soon followed by the same from the lieutenants of the second and the third. Zevulon nodded and switched on scanners in his helmet and was searching for anything suspicious. It didn't surprise him Desert Rose found the tracks of possible Rebel activity. 

“Wooky Wermo, several,” she snorted “ humanoids several. There are no Wooky on Felucia.”

“Indeed, no Wookies on Felucia. We have our track and at the end of it an answer, where are those missing stormies.” Commander Veers felt the rush of adrenaline from the perspective of the hunt and kill and perhaps a pang of fear if he failed his Admiral. “Warhounds, do you want to live forever?” his voice was sharp in the com “Forward, we have Rebels to kill.” The jungle swallowed them in the last rays of dying day. The march began. They were following the track which was almost half standart day old according to lieutenant Rosa Taskeen. Zevulon trusted her, she proved to be a very good tracker through the years. They took a break. Their overalls and helmets should protect them well from the weather, but Zevulon thought the jungle was a bit stronger, when he curled on his chosen spot to catch some sleep. The enemy was in the darkness perhaps closer, they thought they would be.  
He opened his eyes, when hand squeezed his shoulder.   
“Commander, it is time,” Taskeen knew, Zevulon was sleeping with his WESTAR-34 blaster pistol under his head since she remembered. He shot first and asked later like the rest of them. 

“Thank you, Rose,” he said and his hand slipped from the pistol. He was wide awake and listened to the sounds around him. The soft sounds of the men getting ready. The rations and stim packs applied with soft clicks. Zevulon thought about their progress. They followed tracks for almost 18 standart hours without seeing anything else. Only the rancor call during the noon heat, which according to Tuskeen, was bullshit, because rancors should snore in that particular part of the day.

“Lorda, Wooky sized rancor for sure,” she said as she put the recording through their shared coms “with furry ass no doubt.”

Zevulon nodded in agreement. They were observed no doubt. How many scouts were tracking them was hard to tell. The local fauna and flora messed with their bioreaders rendering them useless. The attack came at dusk. The scream of the injured as the sound of the bowcaster shot cracked. 

“Cover,” Zevulon shouted and all around his men were on the ground using their backpacks and whatever possible as cover. The second company announced supposed contact. “The first and Second give them some scratch,” he ordered and noticed that Rose was already moving with the third company to get in the enemy´s back. The bowcaster was not what the locals would use and they had their Rebels. The laser fire vaporized the foliage and some unfortunate animals, who got into it. Zevulon carefully raised his head to scan the surroundings, but could not find anything close to the living Rebel. 

“Alright, stop the fire,” the barked order went through the shared com frequency. The silence was worse than the blaster fire. The sounds of the jungle vanished after their barrage. Zevulon waited for something, for anything. The other bowcaster shot. The enemy charge or the rancors stampede. They uncovered their position just to get a lone Wookie or several Wookies. He slipped his WESTAR-34 into a holster on his hip and held his TL-50 ready. 

“Alright,” he nodded towards Sergeant Threl Fyt “come you, porn consiourner, let's look around.” 

“Why me?” Sergeant Fyt squealed like the spooked loth cat, but was already on his Commander´s heels ready to follow him to hell and back leaving the rest of the men behind. They were carefully scouting the surroundings avoiding the hungry flora, which tried to grab them with its tentacles. Fyt was covering Veers. They found the crushed leaves and a small wookie shaped spot where their shooter was. The soft rustle behind Veers was something alien to the jungle sounds. He sharply turned around and shot the tall hairy figure in the stomach. Fyt already kicked the crossbow away.

“Commander we have, Desert´s Wooky,” Fyt looked with disgust at the Wookie who held desperately his stomach “I hate them … beasts. DS should shoot that filthy hole of theirs.” Fyt´s despise towards non human species was legendary and when he had the opportunity to kill some aliens he always volunteered to the duty. 

“Fyt, he is all yours. I hope you will squeeze something from him, “ Zevulon´s only interest, where the Rebels were and how he would get intel, was something he didn't particularly care about. It was not surprising that Desert Rose caught another two Wookie scouts and had a way with them. He let his people have their revenge. Rebels would give them the same treatment, why bother. The intel was what he suspected the Rebel force ahead of them somewhere in the jungle waiting for them. Wookies didn't talk much even under the persuasion of Rosa Taskeen. Desert Rose walked towards him, cleaning her knife with a dirty rag.

“Rebels sent their ops too, they brag. But that is all I could get from them,” she sat next to him.'' We have mixed alien and human Goo, Lorda.” She spat on the dirt under her feet. Zevulon nodded. 

“Time to move. This place is too open and we had one ambush already. We will move away from the path. No doubt there will be some more nastiness on the narrow jungle path. Make teams, ten minutes rotation in the clearing our way, “ Zevulon hated the jungle warfare with passion. It was consuming his men. Despite the protective gear the Felucian fauna and flora managed to give them hell. The heat and the humidity were torturing them. They were moving through and from time to time Zevulon let his personal ID10 seeker droid go up above the trees to have a better scan. The wretched jungle, something in trees made their scanners practically useless, which meant Rebels would face the same problem. At least something. The droid found the trace of the smoke several miles to the east near the huts of the natives village. There is no smoke in the jungle unless one brought the fire in it. They have the direction. 

“It is getting dark and we are near,” Zevulon said to Taskeen. They were at front watching for any sign of the enemy activity. 

“I can tell,” she said and touched the bush branch, where there was a hanging string of wookie hair, “the village, Lorda. I bet those bastards were aiding to Wooky.” 

“Let's go, Fyt with me. Wait for my signal Rosa ” Zevulon said and disappeared with a very unhappy sergeant, who wondered why he was always getting in the thick of it. 

“Commander, why are always the two of us knowing I am not good at scouting. I am too big, too young and too innocent,” Fyt whispered. He was everything but not innocent and Zevulon liked that brute, who covered his back many times. Zevulon was still there because Fyt was a good shot. They were crawling through the jungle so far nothing would be connected to sentient activity. The sounds of the jungle were undisturbed. The insects were buzzing around them and Zevulon was glad for his helmet and covered body, despite the heat. He would rather marinate in his own sweat than getting stung by nasty looking beasts. 

“Down, “ he ordered and they moved low to the edge of the jungle. The village was a typical Felucian outpost. Six shabby houses, the empty pen where farm animals should be. Zevulon´s mind was still expecting the blaster fire from every corner of that wretched place, but the village was devoid of life. He signaled to Taskeen and went to scout the huts while Fyt covered him. The villagers had to leave several days ago in hury with their life stock or whatever it was. The small things were missing, but the bigger things hard to transport were still there. The men were pouring in the village and the place was scouted for traps and traces of the possible rebel activity. Zevulon was sitting with his back resting against the wall of one hut and observing his men. His TL-50 in his lap. Everything was too calm and too easy. It was wrong. Two battalions of stormtroopers got lost without trace in Felucian Jungle. It could swallow them too. The rifle slipped in his hands, when he noticed commotion at the edge of the jungle. Desert Rose was talking with two agitated soldiers and their state of mind had to be contagious, because she turned on her heel and ran on her crooked legs toward him. 

“Lorda,” she stopped and her voice was slightly shaking,”we solved the mystery. They are everywhere.” 

“Everywhere?” Zevulon was already on his feet. 

“The stormtroopers,” she whispered, “ Lorda, when we find Rebels. Can we go wild? I will show you the green pass to it.” 

“Desert Rose, we are soldiers of the Empire, not some cutthroats,” he followed her to the place where a silent group gathered. The truth was, they were cutthroats in the name of the Empire. The level of brutality they deal with the subjects of their mission was limited only by Zevulon´s own conscience. He once was a naive young man, who rebelled against his father. It changed, when he returned back to the Empire from his ill fated adventure among Rebels. He had to redeem himself in the penal battalion, where the naivety was stripped from him, scrubbed from his soul with the iron brush. The day his father came to pick him up with an offer to join the Special Forces was the best day of his life. He was forgiven. He swore the oath to hunt his former comrades, to help to root out the Rebellion. To get his father's love back. He found out much later, how many strings his father pulled to get him back in service and how he made sure his psych evaluation disappeared every time. 

“Lorda,” she chuckled. She knew him well and if somebody was creative in a way how to send sentients to the afterlife it was Commander Zevulon Veers. He followed her and it was under the trees. The shallow graves where the bodies were rotting and as rot progressed and their cavities expanded the dirt moved up. The hands, the faces lightly covered by leaves. 

“So Tuskeen let's uncover this … ten men with shovels,” he said and leaned against the tree avoiding stepping on the grave or body parts. The bodies they uncovered were in various stage mutilation and not everything was from the battle related wounds. 

“Hmm they did number on officers, while they shot the troopers,” Zevulon was examining the body of the unfortunate captain, “she had not good death judging from the cut fingers, gouged eyes and a bit else.” 

Desert Rose nodded. She felt nauseous and a bit shocked by the calm and unmoved approach of her Commander. There was something chilling in Zevulon Veers. The bodies were covered with more layers of dirt and the officers were crouched around a small fire in the evening eating their rations. 

“Rebels were trying to cover the bodies. Question is why? They usually let Imps to rot where they fell unless the corpses are too smelly or spoil the water near their camp. Which is neither of those two. They have known about us since we jumped from the transport. I wonder why they did not attack us there, when we were the most vulnerable. The Wookies should scare us, but well that might work on Stormies but on us… hardly. Those dead were getting close to something,” Zevulon sipped his caf from his field bottle. 

“Clearly, “ Taskeen snorted, “ why are they now so active here? In this place there is nothing but rancors, bloody insects and jungle which tries to eat you?”

“That we must find out,” Zevulon looked at the dark edge of the jungle “ Desert, double the guards and be ready before sunrise…if they attack us, it would be in that time.” 

“Yes, Sir,” she said and added, “Good night, Commander.” 

Zevulon nodded, put his helmet on and relaxed against the wall and was fast asleep. 

The hour before the sunrise made men sluggish and even Veers craved an hour or two of sleep. The attack came from the lone Rebel, wookie again and again they chopped the furry beast to pieces, but it cost them three men. It was too much for Zevulon´s taste. 

“Wooky, the crazy ones, “ Taskeen said with unease as they checked the bandelier on the corpse. The Wookie commandos were feared for their ferocity and their experience in jungle guerrilla warfare. 

“Get ready! Enemy attacks,” Zevulon barked in his comlink and slipped into the cover of the trench. There was no imminent attack but he knew the enemy was in the jungle waiting for them to make a move and walk into the trap. Stormies would send the scouts, but they were no stormies. It was time to wait. 

“Lorda,” Taskeen said on their commanding frequency. “The wooky rancor again.”

“Yes, they are there and trying to get on our nerves. The same as those furballs we encountered earlier. They are not stupid or too suicidal. They want us to make a mistake, “ Zevulon said and added “they will attack sooner or later. I would prefer sooner. The heat is baking me inside my helmet.” 

“When they attack we will fry their fur with blaster fire,” the bloodthirst was almost palpable in lieutenant´s Taskeen voice.

The heat was almost unbearable during noon and it was not getting better in the afternoon, only evening brought a bit of relief. The flare shot from the jungle above them brought a bit of light to the dusk. The enemy was trying to rouse them, but now it was their turn to rouse the Rebel scum from their hiding. Zevulon took the helmet from the fallen soldier and put it on the stick. The reaction was fast and blaster fire knocked it down. To his satisfaction Fyt´s shot got the sniper. The fury body fell from the tree. Zevulon nodded to Rose and cheered. The voices joined them and soon the booming “For the Empire” was echoing through the village. 

“Cheer! Make them hear it clearly!” Zevulon barked in shared com. The enemy had to be lured out at any costs. The cheering rose, the voices amplified by the helmet coms were shouting “For the Empire! For the Emperor!” It was it. The last straw for the enemy. The response came with the sounds of the mortar shells. 

“Incoming,” Lieutenant Taskeen screamed the obvious as the shells hammered around them. Zevulon crouched in the trench and the dirt showered upon him and his men. The plan worked. The barrage was holding them down. Zevulon wondered how Rebels managed to drag the heavy mortars through the jungle. He would definitely ask for the logistics, when they would catch the Rebel commander. Preferably alive. The attack would come soon and they are ready to welcome the rebels with imperial hospitality. Zevulon smiled. It would be soon. 

“For Freedom! For Rebellion! For the Republic!” The shouts were heard from the jungle. The human and non human voices screamed as the first wave of the Rebels ran towards them. 

Zevulon Veers´ men were well trained, the order and focus were all around him. 

“Get ready,” his voice on the commanding frequency was calm and there was slight excitement when he barked “Fire!” The barrage of blaster fire hit the bodies, tearing through them and sending humans as well as the alien low life to the ground. The dead were covering the clearing in front of their position. There were many of them, yet they were coming and coming to meet their death. 

“Grenades!” Veers shouted in the com and his own toss made a perfect arch and landed in the thick of it and exploded in front of the Rebel officer. It was it. The grenades were raining upon survivors, who turned around and were dying in their run back to the jungle. The loud was covering the silent. It was always like that and he knew Desert Rose was ready with her men. The attack came from their left flank. This time silent. The rebels were creeping from the jungle, taking cover like proper veterans. The first group was just cannon fodder to divert their attention, the real deal were those. Zevulon recognized the distinctive marks of Rebel Shocktroopers. Taskeen was looking at the flower in her gloved hand. Her body radiated boredom and disinterest in anything else but the flower. Zevulon knew she was taking her time. Suddenly she tossed the flower away in a dramatic arch. She grasped her TL-50 Heavy repeater. She aimed and screamed.

“FIRE!” 

Her men fired like one. The blaster fire cut through the bodies of the attackers. The first wave ceased to exist, the second was collapsing to the ground. 

“Pick your target, lads and give them the Emperor's justice,” her voice resonated through the speakers of her helmet. The shots were fired, but the enemy was bringing new and new bodies to the fry. Veers´ men were trying to undo Taskeen´s in the rebel culling. The discipline and fanaticism laced with a bit of sadism was a trait of the Imperial Special Forces. 

Zevulon shot tall Wookie in the face. He knew he needed to put the new power pack, but there was no time. This time a human male attacker was upon him with nasty looking vibroblade. Veers´heavy boot landed with a precise kick on other´s man crotch. It sent Zevulon´s attacker on the ground where his skull met the gun-stock of his TL-50. The bones crunched and Zevulon was already moving on another Rebel. There was no time for tactics. The fight on bayonets was bloody and without mercy. The vibroblades flashed. Zevulon grasped the shovel. When it was the right time, he prefered this simple multipurpose tool. He parried the attack and smoothly counterattacked the blood from the torn neck splashed over his overall. 

“To the ground,” He heard Fyt´s voice. He flattened himself on the ground narrowly missed blaster fire which erupted over his head and made Rebels pay for their foolishness to get too close to the Emperor's finest. 

“Commander, baddies left the party,” the sergeant's voice made him get back on his feet. He put a new power pack in his TL-50 then bent for the shovel. 

“The more are coming!” he was surprised. He would pull back into the jungle if he was rebel commander and his troops were massacred, but obviously shock troopers were living in different world. Getting stormtroopers with their trousers down was getting in their heads. “Here we have the rank, “ he pointed at the far end of clearing. “I like those shock troopers. When things are bad everybody fights. That one I want alive. When time will be ripe.” Zevulon said and observed the battle. The Imperials were getting upper hand and the bodies littered around where mostly from the Rebel´s side. 

“Do not pursue them into the jungle,” Zevulon walked with two men as his escort among the bodies and personally shot the wounded Rebels. Commander Veers was known for no quarter policy. If somebody of his men protested, there could always be blaster shots spared for his own. His men did not, but sometimes some stotormie or naval officer had a problem. His personal ID10 seeker droid was busy during battle. The data feed was filling the screen in his helmet. The enemy still had enough resources to give them hell. The sliced data brought the location of the Rebel´s position. Something for Admiral Piett to bring a bit of rain. 

“Lorda, they are waiting for us. Thinking we are stupid Stormies,” Taskeen joined him. She knew he would be pleased about their own casualties. There were only three men dead and six wounded, which was akin to a miracle or as Veers said, was a product of good imperial training. 

“Indeed they are thinking we are Stormies,” he said and looked up to the sky and smiled “Desert Rose, what do you call the rain on the desert?” 

“Bloody miracle, lorda,” she was surprised by the question. 

“Witness one,” Zevulon grinned under his helmet and the rain of turbolaser fire hit the jungle on the position he sent. Frying everything and everyone in the position. “Prepare for attack, rebels were smoked out.” Zevulon´s voice wasn´t betraying his raw happiness as the ground shook. The attack came as expected with ferocity of the men who had nowhere to run. 

\---

Carasynthia "Cara" Dune was pressed to the ground next to her commander. The Imps were not the usual Stormtroopers, but something else. She heard about the Imperial Special forces being effectively ruthless and embodied everything the Alliance fought. The explosions were getting closer and closer. The Imperials were methodically massacring them. They were the force which kept the villagers here safe, free from the Empire. Cara felt victorious when they made stormtroopers to disappear. She shared the sentiment with the rest of her company, but it changed. The dead should be Imps, not them. They were luring them in the trap, but instead they were caught with their pants down. The explosion tossed her into bushes. She lost her consciousness. When she woke up. She didn't move. She held her breath. The imps were all around. The fires illuminated the village or what remained from it. The screams of her commander shook her to the core. The imps were on him. She swore if she got from there alive, she would find the Imp commander. She saw him walking with the short female, who removed her helmet but not him. They stopped in front of her bush. It would be one shot and she could drop him down. Only if she had something to shoot with and what if she missed. There would be another opportunity. 

“Lorda, the victory must be celebrated,” the woman screeched and took a swing from her field bottle. 

“The transport will pick us up, Desert,” he replied and his helmeted head turned up searching for the troop transport. “The Rebel attempt to take this rock was cut short. I hope our Admiral will catch those who want to flee.” 

“Your Admiral, “ she chuckled, but stopped when the Imp Commander turned to her and Cara thought he would throttle that woman. 

“My Admiral deserves respect, “ the Imp commander replied with hiss. 

“Of course, Lorda,” the sharp reply came. 

Cara would get him. Not today, but soon. The Imp would be hers. The transports picked the imperials and she managed to slip away. It was a fight for survival but she managed it. She was picked up by the smugglers and returned to Alliance. She learned she was the only survivor. Her testimony and the description of the commanding Imperial managed to pinpoint the name. The traitor. The one on which Alliance put the huge bounty on his head. Commander Zevulon Veers.


End file.
